Light Up
by The Flying Author
Summary: Luna remembers that day, the day her whole life changed. The day her mother left her for the afterlife.


_Light Up_

_By The Red Haired One_

Author's Note: Um, so here is my frist stab at Luna. Those of you who have read TDOLAP, you know Luna as a guest at a party who drank too much. Good news is, this is pre-Neptune Luna! I hope you liked it, and please review. I know it's been _ages_ since I put anything up, but here it is!

Disclaimer: Um, yeah, nothing here is mine. I don't own Harry Potter, nor the song that inspired me.

Dedication: My beta! Thank's for working around Yahoo!'s issues in order to get this to me!

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The days where its slightly rainy--you know, where there isn't enough rain to be classified as "showering", but there is enough to make the pavement wet and the grass slick--make me think of her the most. My father feels the same way, I know. He locks himself in his study and shuts the windows, starting a fire in the harth and making the room unbaribly hot, and immerses himself in his work, blocking out the world. He often begins drinking a bit those days, and seeing as we live in England, those days are often. He doesn't drink much, he only starts drinking when the slightly rainy days won't end. 

I put on her cloak, the slightly heavy one that keeps the rain off, and sit in the garden, on her favorite bench, next to her favorite rose bush, which I take care to treat as the best plant in the whole garden. I can see her laboratory from the seculeded part of the garden where I sit on those days. It has growen unkempt, and sits in waste, my father not having the heart to do anything to it. The crumbling walls are a constant reminder of that day, when I sat in this exact spot when my father came out screaming something was wrong...the scorch marks won't go away, no matter how hard it rains. My hair grows damp as I sit out there, knees pulled to my chest, on that bench tears running down my cheeks occasionally, under her cloak.

He likes to think the rain is her tears, my father does. He often sits in the small green house where her flowers grew when it pours, and watch the drops hit the glass, and each one he likes to pretend is a prayer, a message from her, from the other side. He says they are her tears, missing us so, sorry for condeming us to stay here, in this earthly abode while she is on the other side, missing us so.

I pat my father on the shoulder, and lead him away from the green house to a diffrent part of the house. It's foolish to think that the rain drops are her tears, but he must have his hopes about something, and if thinking the drops are tears, well, I'll let him think that so long it doesn't kill him.

My mother was a wonderful person. She loved us unconditionally, and encouraged my father in everything he did. She enjoyed spellwork, so much that it killed her. When my parents moved to this house, the first thing they added was the laboratory on the back of the property. She inisisted it be an intricit building, one normal-looking, but yet strange at the same time. I don't think she realized what would happen to her beloved laboratory. She came up with odd spells all the time, ones that could find a memory for you, moisturize your skin. She loved it, she really did. Experimenting with the unknown, the research put into coming up with something so delecate as a spell, especially the ones which could be harmful, she put so much love and care and attention into creating the spells. My mother was a brilliant witch, I have no doubt of it in my mind. She was a wonderful mother, as well. She might not have always been there constantly with her work and such, but she was there when it mattered.

Sometimes though, just sometimes, I wish she had been there when I recieved my Hogwarts letter. There was never a doubt that I would get one, but I still wish she could have been there, to read it, sit down on her favorite stool which she kept in her laboratory, and looked at me with her beaming face, and hugged me, telling me how simply _proud_ she was that I was accepted into the one place she loved besides her laboratory. I wish she had been shopping with me for my first wand, when Mr. Olivander praised her spellwork and her abilities with the wand, and said he had no doubt that I would be as great a witch as her, I wish she had been there when I came home from Hogwarts for the first time, filled with excitement of what I was learning, of how amazing everything was. I wish she was there to hold me and k

iss my forehead when I came home from Hogwarts the next year, and cried myself to sleep because my years of being labeled "Loony Lovegood" were just begining, and others were discovering the wonders of stealing my things and hiding them. I wish she had been there to comfort me, and give me the confidence that my father could never give me.

Not that he was a bad father--he is amazing. The adventures we go on are wonderful and I enjoy them. I just wish I could have the soothing and comforting hugs of my mother, that she used to give me nightly until that night. "_Luna, I think there is something wrong with your mother...LUNA! Come on! Something is wrong at the Laboratory!"_

I know people who have lost parents much younger than I was when she died, and they turned out just fine. I have no doubt that I will do well in my life, but its on those slightly rainy days when everything comes back to me, and I want to cry, because maybe without my mother I won't turn out okay. The fear is inside of me constantly, but I instantly chase it away, because I know everything will be fine. I'd be a fool to think it won't be so.

_"Luna, hurry. The light in there is troubling. Come Luna, keep up!"_

I know that there is no point in missing her constantly. I will see her again, and its pointless to mourn her. I do though. I know she would want me to be happy and not worry about her, there in the afterlife, but sometimes I am worried. I worry mostly about my father. He hates talking about her. But she is gone, there is no getting her back. We must remember the most of her, and that's all we can do.

_There had been a slight rain all day, enough so the grass was slick, and it made it a little hard for her to get up the hill. Her father grabed her hand and pulled her along, and they ran into the laboratory._

The veil was the most extordinary thing about the afterlife, really. My father had told me about it, and I redily believed him, knowing that there was some way you could talk to the dead, but going to the Department of Mysteries made it so much real. They were lurking about behind the curtian, out of sight. I heard my mum's voice, talking to some other departed soul about me. I could hear her. It made me lose focus for a moment, but I was sure of it. I was sure I heard her talking about me to another soul, and it was, well, magical. "I'm so proud of her...she has excellent marks in school, oh how I was so happy she was accepted. I wasn't there, well, you know what I mean. But I saw it. I was ever so proud of her."

And I knew it, she was there.

_There was a flash of surreal blue light, and she saw her mother being thrown across the room, her body limp, the slightest trace of a soul leaving the room, and the light went away. "Amaris!" Her father yelled, as he ran to her mother's limp body. Luna knew. She knew her mother was dead._

_Fin _


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